I love the rain and I love it more when people can write good poems about it. I liked yours very much. They follow into the next one, as well, which worked nicely. I loved the way you can almost taste the air. Also, I love the two lines:
"The drama, clashes of the white-haired,
Bushy bearded sky kings." Great imagery there, I like the beard thing. Heehee. _ Great job, keep it up! God bless you and thanks for the reviews.

o. this is good. i like the last one the best, but the other two add something to it that make it, feel different... more like... completed, like all the threads have been tied together or something... i dunno, i'm just rambling. write more like this!

Rain is absolutely my favourite sight in nature and lighting is always a bonus :-) So I really enjoyed these three poems.
In the first one, I loved the image of expectation even in the air. 'its nerves on end' was such a perfect phrasing for it.
The second one really carried a beautiful description of it beginning to rain... I liked the comparision with the tears of a child.
The third one carried quite a twist... you should've told 'Zeus' to aim for the truck ;-)

Harriet chapter 1 . 12/20/2003

i love the first two. i can't say i understand the third well enough to pass judgement. but by all means, keep them together - i love reading them and seeing the different facets of rain and different points of view. together they multiply one anothers beauty. :)

Oh, wow, I absolutely adored the first poem. I really like the last one too. But the first is the greatest. Throughout the whole thing I felt like it was a beautiful stormy day, rather than all this desert junk. It was nice to have a break. Thank you. :)

I love rain! My favorite weather of all time. This may turn into rambling (hope you don't mind. Remember your poems make me think and that's a *good* thing) A week ago there was an absolute downpour. It sounded so loud on the roof that I could swear that it was going to fall in on me at any moment. Not that I would have minded. Anyway, I went to stand by the screen door, and the rain was coming through it and making a little puddle on the dorr and it sprayed lightly across my face as I stood there. I opened the door and went out and it was raining so hard, but I didn't care because I felt like such a part of everything and I danced on the steps soaking wet while the rain ran down through my hair and in my clothing, permeating my body through and through. It was the best feeling in the world. Rain does bless. Um, sorry about the rambling. The end of your poem seemed to be the happiest part. It sort of broke the solemnity when you began to talk about the "Bushy bearded sky kings" They made me laugh. You capture averything about the renewing nature of rain very well and also the time before it. During the rain, I couldn't relate to it as well, but then I'm different than most. Have you ever noticed how everything turns yellow before a thunderstorm? I love that. Keep up the good writing. Only mistake: near the bottom, change AS to As. A minor thing. Very good work!